


Gedankenwirrwarr

by melonbutterfly



Series: Unkompliziert [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Calm Down Erik, Charles Is a Darling, Charles has the patience of a saint, Cuddling and Snuggling, Erik is emotionally constipated, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-12
Updated: 2012-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonbutterfly/pseuds/melonbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It's not that Erik doesn't love Charles. No, he actually is quite ridiculously smitten with him, even after three months' of relationship. It's just that, well. Sex, it turns out, is more important to him than he would have thought.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gedankenwirrwarr

Gedankenwirrwarr (German): a state of mind wherein ones thoughts are so tangled they make thinking difficult

 

It's not that Erik doesn't love Charles. No, he actually is quite ridiculously smitten with him, even after three months' of relationship. It's just that, well. Sex, it turns out, is more important to him than he would have thought.

This isn't a new revelation that he finds unexpectedly at the bottom of his third pint of beer; he's been trying not to think it for the past couple of weeks – two months at least, if he's honest with himself, and right now he probably is. Denial is also not something he finds at the bottoms of his beer glasses – rather, he's leaving a bit more of it in them with every swallow, he finds. He's not sure it's supposed to work that way.

"All alone?", a sultry voice says rather close to his ear. Erik automatically leans away – he's not very fond of his personal space being invaded without his permission. Even by attractive women.

And she is attractive, there is no question about that – curvy, enough weight on her he likely won't see her ribs, confidence tugging enticingly at her lips. When their eyes meet she smiles.

The invitation is clear. She's interested in him and instead of waiting for him to come to her, she's pursuing that interest – just the way he likes them.

The way he would like Charles.

It's a sobering thought, inasmuch as Erik needs sobering, seeing as he didn't drink all that much yet and also didn't do anything. But just because he didn't do anything – didn't even get anywhere near doing anything, really – doesn't mean he didn't think it, and the realization makes him nauseous. He's never cheated on any of his partners, and he feels like he'd be the worst kind of asshole if the first time he did it would be to Charles. He had known going in what to expect.

"Yes, and I prefer it that way right now, sorry," he says curtly to the woman, who looks annoyed for a moment before she concedes defeat with a nod and a dry twist to her mouth.

"If you reconsider, I'll be over there," she says, turning around and heading into a corner. Erik purposefully doesn't note where she's going and where she'll be waiting for him; instead, he turns back to his empty beer glass.

What is he even doing here? he asks himself a moment later. He had felt he needed some distance, but nothing can be achieved by him sitting in some bar and slowly getting drunk. It's not Charles' fault.

God, he's an asshole, he realizes, feeling even more nauseous when he remembers how he had snapped at Charles earlier today. Charles' face when Erik had left him standing alone in the hall comes back to haunt him now, and Erik quickly settles his bill before he flees.

As he walks back to his place, he can't help but worry whether Charles will even still be there. They don't live together – that would be insane, they've only known each other for three months – but they spend a lot of time at each other's places. He had left Charles alone, though, and he had snapped at him for no reason – Charles had been late, Erik had been frustrated, there had been some words. Poor Charles had been completely bewildered and hurt. He wouldn't be surprised if Charles had left; Erik's sure he deserves it. He hasn't exactly been pleasant the past couple of days either.

So he considers himself incredibly lucky when, upon his return, he finds Charles in his living room. He doesn't come to greet Erik as he takes off his coat and shoes, but he does at least acknowledge Erik's presence, lowering his book to look at him when Erik enters the room. A mix of trepidation, worry and hurt is plain on Charles' face, making Erik feel even more bad.

"Hi." Sheepishly, Erik sits down on the other end of the sofa.

"Erik, hey."

Erik runs a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry for snapping at you."

Charles nods, but he doesn't say that it's alright – not that Erik expects him to. Charles is gentle and understanding, but he is no pushover. This is proven further when Charles asks, "Are you ready to talk about what's been bothering you for the past couple of days?"

Erik grimaces; he doesn't really want to. He feels selfish and shallow, even though intellectually he knows that he isn't. It's as natural for him to want sex as it's natural for Charles not to – that's just the way they both are.

This is mostly why he's tried not to acknowledge to himself that he has a problem – it seems insurmountable to him, a difference neither of them can overcome. But the last thing he wants is for their relationship to come to an end. He loves Charles, he truly does. The initial infatuation he had felt for the man had only increased the better he got to know him; Charles is amazing, it's that simple and that difficult. He's kind and gentle, he gives but he doesn't yield. He's intelligent, sometimes a bit oblivious and dorky but that only adds to his charm, and he's social but enjoys solitude just as much. Erik is quite ridiculously in love with him – he enjoys spending time with Charles a lot, more than anybody else, he thinks.

Sure, Charles has his faults – he's a bit arrogant, entitled in an unconscious way that grates Erik, who literally came from nothing – but that only makes Erik more comfortable with him, the way he couldn't be if Charles were perfect. He's never felt like this; he had always at least vaguely known going in why a relationship would end eventually. Not with Charles, though.

Naturally, he consequently is terrified of them breaking up. Even if it doesn't necessarily mean they'll stop spending time with each other, he's not sure he could deal with their relationship becoming a friendship – of having to eventually sit by and watch as Charles got together with somebody else, of him being happier with somebody not Erik. The mere idea causes him pain, and he doesn't want any part of it. He wants Charles to himself, especially romantically. And sexually too. Therein lies the problem.

"Erik?" Looking worried now, Charles scoots closer and puts a hand on Erik's knee. Of course he'd notice that Erik's problem isn't just something like a couple of bad critiques in the papers or a fight with his agent.

"I'm sorry." Taking Charles' hand, Erik presses a gentle kiss into the palm. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't, then," Charles assures him, fingers curling around the kiss as if to capture it. He slides closer to Erik until their sides are pressed together; it's one of the many subtle ways he suggests cuddling. He for some reason doesn't like bringing it up verbally and instead prefers to use non-verbal cues, though he isn't above using words either. Not that he needs to all that often anymore; Erik by this point has learned how to recognize the signs, and he rarely doesn't feel like it. Charles is incredibly cuddly, and Erik has gained a new appreciation of it with him.

Wordlessly, they curl up together. They both lie on their sides facing each other, Erik with his head pillowed on Charles' arm, Charles' breath fanning over his face. For a moment, they're quiet; Erik feels himself calm down somewhat, even if he doesn't worry less. It's just difficult to fret about losing Charles if he has him right here in his arms.

"What is it, darling?", Charles eventually asks. His voice is calm, gentle, quiet enough for Erik to ignore him if he wants to.

"I love you," Erik tells him firmly. It's not the first time they've said it, but it's still new enough to make him feel a bit breathless. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"I'm glad to hear that," Charles replies, "only I'm sensing a but in there."

Shifting, Erik bites his lower lip. "It bothers me more than I thought it would, that we don't have sex."

"Oh," Charles says quietly, voice faint. He must have suspected, but it's clear he hoped it'd be something else.

They haven't really done much where sex is concerned, except for Charles jerking him off a couple of times, all initiated by him. Erik feels incredibly awkward, knowing Charles doesn't like it, and he's read a lot of material on asexuality and asexual/sexual relationships in forums and websites. There were a lot of stories from asexuals about how pressurized to have sex they felt and how uncomfortable, even scared it made them, and he'd never want to do that to Charles.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he adds, twisting his fingers in Charles' sweater. It's one of his own, actually; apparently Charles borrowed it. Even tense as he is, that thought warms Erik.

"I've been worried about this," Charles admits. "I got the feeling you weren't really comfortable talking about it though."

He's right, Erik realizes with a cringe. He had avoided the subject like the plague, even in his own mind, as if not thinking and talking about it would make it go away.

They're both quiet for a moment, Erik really having no idea how to express himself, until Charles says quietly, "It really bothers you a lot, doesn't it."

It instantly makes Erik feel worse, because it's true. It makes him feel incredibly shallow and selfish, and he wishes he would at least have been able to put it to words clearly himself. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, miserable.

"How much is it bothering you?", Charles asks, not acknowledging the apology. His voice is terribly gentle. "Unbearably so?"

"No!", Erik denies quickly, sharp. Then he thinks about it for a moment, thinks about never having sex with Charles. He wants it so much, fantasizes about it, _dreams_ about it, and there's a part of him that's frustrated that Charles won't do it, because it's wonderful.

But, he finds upon careful deliberation, he can deal with it. "No," he says again, still with the same conviction, only this time there's more thought behind it. Realizing that brings him no small amount of relief – it's difficult and he feels awful because of it (that's his biggest problem, he realizes; how guilty he feels for having this problem to begin with), but it's not so bad he can't deal with it.

Charles lets out a shaky breath, relieved as well. "Good," he says. His voice wavers for just a moment, and Erik just has to wrap his arms around him to hold him tight for a moment. It seems he wasn't the only one afraid their relationship would end because of this.

"It's just…" Licking his lips, Erik tries to put to words what he's feeling. It's terribly embarrassing, but he's a grown adult for god's sake, he can talk about sex. "You're really damn sexy, you know." It comes out a bit gruff, but there, he's said it.

Charles smiles. "You are very aesthetically pleasing," he returns, a teasing twinkle in his eyes. Then he goes serious. "You don't need to protect me from that, you know." Trust him to get to the heart of the matter immediately. "It's natural to you to be sexually attracted to people, and I'm your boyfriend. I don't just not mind that you find me sexy, I'm actually quite glad about it." A blush stains Charles' cheeks; Erik loves seeing him like that. "And I'm sorry that I can't feel that way about you and that we'll never have the sort of sex life you're used to. But it also doesn't have to be the way it is right now."

Erik immediately lowers his gaze. He can feel Charles look at him, but he just can't bring himself to look him in the eye right now. "I really don't want to have sex with you if you don't like it," he says flatly. It's perhaps a bit harsh, but god, the thought of Charles forcing himself to go through the motions with Erik, to lie back and think of England so to speak… it's unbearable.

"Erik," Charles says, voice a bit sharp. Cupping his chin, he forces Erik to look up and at him. "Whatever gave you the impression I don't want to have sex?"

Erik frowns. He means to say something, but he hasn't read all that material for nothing; he knows by now that not feeling sexual attraction doesn't mean not feeling sexual desire.

Charles sighs. "I told you, Erik, right at the beginning, that I like having sex."

Yes, Erik remembers that. "But… we haven't…"

"Yes." Clearly exasperated but trying to blunt the sting of it, Charles cards his fingers through Erik's hair once. "I did tell you that spontaneous sex really isn't something I can do."

Erik frowns. Charles had told him that, in one of the very first emails, but after Charles had replied to those very blunt questions Erik had asked him they had moved on very quickly and talked more about other things; asexuality, their past relationships, things like that. It had gotten lost a little – that whole email had, Erik realizes now.

"I did try to initiate sex, but you seemed a little uncomfortable, so I thought maybe you had to get used to the idea first, what with me being asexual and probably not wanting it the same way you do," Charles is telling him. His brows are furrowed thoughtfully.

Erik really doesn't know what to say. Charles is making sense, but he knows there was a reason he was so frustrated. This is making him sound really silly.

Charles bites his lower lip. "Is it the penetration thing? Is that the problem? Do you want to fuck me really badly?"

God yes, he does; even having Charles ask that sends a shiver of arousal over his skin. But it's not compelling – Erik just wants to have sex with Charles. He wants to make him come. He wants Charles to make him come. He wants to lick him and bite him and suck him. But most of all, he wants to lie in bed with Charles afterwards, loose and languid, naked and warm and intimate. He wants to feel the sweat cool on their skin and wants to listen to Charles' heartbeat, strong and steady, as it slows down in tandem with his breath.

He doesn't really know how to say it, but he has learned a little from the things he has read over the past couple of months. "It's the intimacy," he tries to explain, voice a little gruff.

"The intimacy you associate with sex," Charles prompts; apparently they already have a system. Erik fails to express himself and manages only to say enough for Charles to figure it out himself, and Charles does the rest. It doesn't sound fair; Erik's going to have to work on that.

"Yes." He doesn't really know how else they can get to that point of joint tranquility, that bubble where nothing exists but them and the bed and the things they share. That's not to say they don't get to intimacy otherwise; they do. They cuddle a lot, spend hours in bed, share important and unimportant things, but it's not the same. There's a distinctly different tinge to that sort of intimacy. And Erik really misses the post-sex kind. It's just unlike any other kind of intimacy Erik has experienced, and he doesn't know any other way to get there than through sex. He doesn't know if it's because he's doing something wrong, if he fails somewhere to do it right with Charles, or if it's inextricably entwined with sex.

"Well, there's only one thing we can do," Charles says, suddenly all business.

Erik blinks, taken aback and confused. "What?"

Charles raises an eyebrow and looks at him as if he's a little slow but he finds it adorable so it's alright. "Have sex." With that, he abruptly jumps up and holds out a hand to Erik, looking at him expectantly.

It's likely Erik gapes him rather dumbly, but he's too busy doing it to care about how he looks. "What? _Now_?"

"No time like the present, dear," Charles tells him. "Come on."

Erik blinks. And blinks again. "Are you serious?" So this is what Charles meant when he said he can't have sex spontaneously. Erik has never been proposed to like that. Is there even a mood? Can there even _be_ a mood if Charles doesn't get innuendo? (And he doesn’t, he really doesn't, it's hilarious. Also frustrating at times, for example when Charles is busy fellating a straw and really doesn't understand when Erik gets all hot and bothered.)

Clearly running out of patience, Charles rolls his eyes and reaches out to take Erik's hand. "Are you coming or not?" Then he wriggles his eyebrows. It's ridiculous and adorable how clearly he is proud of himself for the double entendre.

Really, it's impossible to resist Charles at the best of times, much less when he's like this, proud and very relieved and cheerful and clearly eager. Erik lets Charles pull him up and almost out of his own volition steps up real close, looking Charles in the eyes. "Are you serious?", he asks, wanting to make this as clear as possible. He's still nervous, unsure whether this is a good idea.

The grin fades from Charles lips, melting into a smile as his eyes soften. "Of course," he says, rising on his toes to kiss Erik quickly. Then his mouth quirks slyly. "I've been thinking about this for a while," he purrs, looking back and forth between Erik's lips and eyes. "In great detail, if you know what I mean." He bites his lower lip and looks up at Erik through his eyelashes.

Erik's mouth goes dry and he's instantly half hard. He had no idea Charles could flirt with intent – with that kind of intent, and the mere thought of Charles fantasizing about having sex with Erik almost makes him moan. The next moment, and Erik honestly doesn't know who started it but he really doesn't care, they're kissing, and it's not the sort of kiss they've shared before. It's wet and hot and needy, clearly the foreplay sort of kiss. Charles' hands are on Erik's shoulder and in his hair, Erik's on his back, between his shoulder blades and in the small of it, pressing his whole body close. Their kisses have gotten heated before, but it was different then; one of them would pull away, they'd give each other space, an unspoken agreement between them that they wouldn't go further after the two awkward times they tried.

There's nothing of that now, Charles' tongue in his mouth, teeth pulling at his lower lip, sucking on his tongue. Erik groans and pulls Charles' closer, automatically thrusts his own hips forwards to rub the bulge in his pants against him. That's when he notices that Charles is actually hard as well – he hadn't really been, before. It had made Erik feel incredibly awkward, embarrassed and somehow ashamed, even though he knew he shouldn't be.

"Fuck, Charles," he groans.

Charles laughs, a carefree, breathless sound, and pulls away, playfully dodging out of range when Erik reaches for him. "Bedroom," he says, grinning broadly. His lips are swollen and even more red than normal, his eyes bright, and then he unexpectedly reaches down and pulls both Erik's borrowed sweater and the two shirts he's wearing underneath off, leaving his upper body bare. A high noise escapes Erik's throat, prompting Charles to laugh again, and then he whirls away when Erik reaches for him again, fingertips grazing over his ribs as Charles simultaneously throws the sweater away and makes for the bedroom.

Erik follows, blood pounding in his ears; he has to open the button of his jeans to relieve some of the pressure, he's so hard. He hasn't been so aroused with so little direct stimulus since he was a teenager.

He gets to the bedroom just in time to see Charles throw himself onto the bed on his back, arms outstretched, face open and relaxed. The smile on his lips is happy, and there's an expression in his eyes when he looks at Erik that makes Erik's mouth go dry.

Rolling onto his belly, Charles puts his head in both hands and says, "Take your clothes off." It's an order, clearly, and fuck if that doesn't send a spark of arousal up Erik's spine. He hadn't expected this, he really hadn't expected this. He doesn't know what he had expected, but this isn't it.

His fingers tremble a little as he obeys, pulling off his shirt and not caring where it lands, shoving his jeans down and then stumbling clumsily when he remembers his socks.

"Everything," comes Charles' voice, low and sultry, when Erik hesitates over his boxers. They've seen each other naked before, but this is completely different, anything but casual.

Charles' gaze is hot, wandering over Erik's body, when Erik looks up. Their eyes meet, and Charles smiles slowly, a different one from before. Then, in the same abrupt manner as before when he had darted out of Erik's reach, he flips onto his back and unceremoniously opens his own jeans and pushes them down, underwear included. Carelessly, he toes off his socks, glancing at Erik over his head and grinning. He's absolutely gorgeous, and Erik wants him so much it hurts.

Still, something makes him hold back. He wants nothing more than to pounce his boyfriend, but they've never done anything like this, never naked, never with this kind of mood, light and still laden, electrifying. When Charles reaches for him invitingly, he doesn't hesitate, takes his hand and lets himself be pulled onto the bed, but he also doesn't do any of the things he wants to except cup Charles' face with both hands and kiss him thoroughly.

When they break apart a while later, they've rolled around a lot, changed angles and positions, and they're both breathless. "You're really quiet," Charles comments, caressing the side of Erik's face.

"I don't really-" Erik flounders, not knowing what he feels, much less how to put it to words. Eventually he settles for "I really love you a lot," because it's true. He feels nearly overwhelmed with it right now.

Charles smiles brightly. "I love you a lot too," he replies, emphasizing it with a quick kiss. He laughs and pulls away when Erik tries to deepen the contact. "Wait! I wanted to ask you something – I've been wanting to for a while, actually. Can I blow you?"

Erik nearly goes cross-eyed, and it takes him a second to find his voice again. When he does, it's hoarse and he actually needs to clear his throat. "I'll come too soon," he demurs.

Biting his lower lip, Charles purrs, "That's not necessarily a bad thing." Then he smiles and wraps both arms around Erik's shoulders, turns them so Erik slides between his spread thighs. Wrapping his legs around Erik's hips, he says decisively, "Like this. You'll rub off on me, and then you'll let me suck your dick."

With a groan, Erik lets his head drop into Charles' neck for a moment. "Jesus, Charles," he curses, adjusting the angle of their hips a little. He falters when he notices that Charles is hard, but not completely.

Of course Charles notices immediately. "I probably won't come," he cautions, voice quieter as the smile fades from his lips.

A couple of months ago, something like that would have made Erik stop immediately, maybe hurt, maybe insulted, depending on how far into his forays into exploring all there is to know about asexuality he would have been. He definitely would have been worried though, likely taking it as a sign that Charles isn't as into this as he is. Since then, though, he's learned that just because it would be true for him doesn't mean it's true for his boyfriend. He trusts Charles not to do anything he doesn't want to, to stop things if he gets uncomfortable – especially since Erik had made it clear to both of them that it wouldn't be a deal-breaker if they never have sex.

But god, this is good, this feels so good. It's clear Charles is enjoying himself, that he wants this, that he wants _Erik_. He'd been trying not to let it get to him, but there's a difference between knowing intellectually that he's wanted and feeling it when Charles doesn't express it in the language Erik is familiar with.

"As long as you're enjoying yourself," he replies, perhaps a bit too serious for the situation.

Charles' expression turns fond. "Of course I am." There's an _idiot_ tacked to that he doesn't say but that Erik still hears clearly. The moment passes quickly when that sly look returns to Charles' face and he taps Erik's ass, not quite a slap but not a pat either. "Come on," he orders impatiently, grin wide and predatory. "I want to see your face when you come."

Erik shudders and his hips twitch, grinding his hard cock into the crease of Charles' groin. He gasps and does it again with intent, groaning at how good it feels. It might be just that he's been lusting after Charles for three months at this point, but he's way closer than he would have expected, and he picks up a rhythm quickly.

For a couple of minutes Charles just watches him, rolling his hips up into every of Erik's thrusts, lower lip caught between his teeth as he stares at Erik intently, clearly enjoying what he sees. Just when Erik's about to get really self-conscious, though, he swallows noisily and starts talking, voice low and rough. "After you've come all over me, I'll swipe my fingers through your come and lick it off them, one after the other, so you can see what I'll do to your cock when you let me have it." Erik curses, wide-eyed and completely blind-sided; he never would've thought Charles would say something like that.

And he's not finished. "I'll put my tongue all over you," he murmurs, fingernails biting into Erik's shoulders when he meets Erik's thrusts with a particularly vicious one of his own. "I'll suck my mark into your skin, so everybody knows you're mine. I know you like it when I do that, you never try to cover up when I mark your neck. Am I right?" Erik groans and nods, honestly not sure whether he's capable of forming words right now. Charles' words, the things he says seem to go directly to his cock, making his rhythm speed up, get erratic. He's close.

"I've been imagining what I'll do to you," Charles tells him, voice low. "I jerk off thinking about it, about how I'll make you moan, make you breathless. I'm going to lick my way down your body, and by the time I get down there, you'll be hard again. Would you like for me to use teeth, Erik?"

Erik nods hastily, witlessly. He whimpers, completely losing his rhythm; he's just thrusting mindlessly now, so close, so close-

Charles rears up and jams his teeth into the side of Erik's neck, biting and sucking simultaneously, and Erik throws his head back and screams, hips coming to a stuttering halt as he comes messily between them. His arms can't hold him up a moment longer and he collapses on top of his boyfriend, forcing him to let go of his neck and wriggle around a bit so he can at least breathe.

It takes Erik an unreasonable amount of time to gather his wits, but hell if that wasn't a completely mindblowing orgasm. He's _trembling,_ and he can't form a coherent thought, only manages to paw at Charles ineffectively. Thankfully, Charles doesn't seem inclined to move away; he soothingly runs his hand up and down Erik's back, but he doesn't say a word for a long time.

"Jesus," Erik eventually manages to gasp.

Charles huffs a breathless laugh. His pupils are wide, and he looks about as dazed as Erik feels. "You're so beautiful," he says, sounding almost awed.

"Jesus Christ, Charles," Erik replies, wriggling an arm under his boyfriend purely so he can roll them on their sides, which allows him to wrap both arms around Charles and squeeze him tightly. "You're amazing." Then he adds a little breathlessly, "I love you."

It makes Charles smile widely and cup Erik's face again. "If you hadn't said it before, I'd be wondering now if that's just your hypothalamus speaking."

Erik has no idea what he's talking about and he's also not used to his partners still being able to use ten dollar words after orgasm, but he's sure that even if Charles had come as hard as he had, he'd still be saying the exact same thing right now.

"I mean it," he says belatedly a couple of minutes later. He's pleasantly buzzed, post-orgasmic and lazy and Charles lies still and warm in his arms. There's no place in the world he'd rather be right now.

"I know," Charles replies. "Amygdalae, not hypothalamus."

Whatever. Erik still has no idea what he's talking about; he's going to ask later.

They doze for a while, touching lazily and affectionately, but eventually Charles grows impatient. Erik opens one eye when he feels Charles wriggle away, and then the other when Charles winds a hand down his body and swipes it over his belly. Where Erik's come is cooling.

When he brings up his hand, his fingers are sticky and Charles' face is sly. "I believe we had plans," he purrs.

Erik feels his eyes grow wide, and wider still when Charles slowly, demonstratively licks along his index finger before sucking it into his mouth. "My god, Charles," he says. Charles just raises an eyebrow at him and starts in on his middle finger.

*

When Erik wakes up in the morning, he feels the pleasant stretch in his muscles and instantly remembers what happened last night. He couldn't stop the grin from forming if his life depended on it, and he can only look back on himself with consternation. Clearly, he had been freaking out for no reason at all; he should have talked to Charles. They did that, the previous evening – Erik isn't in his twenties anymore, he can't get it up again so quickly – and Charles had chided him for his suppositions. He really doesn't know how he could have forgotten half of what Charles wrote in those first emails, and the half about sex no less. He really had been silly.

Sure, the sex is different than Erik is used to; Charles hadn't come at all, and he didn't like to be touched much. "If you would like to, you can touch me, but not with the intent to arouse," Charles had said, mouth a moue of regret. It went against everything Erik had learned and he couldn't help but feel selfish afterwards, but it was difficult to feel too bad when Charles so clearly was fully on board with the whole thing. It was different, and it would definitely take some time getting used to, but Erik _really_ had enjoyed himself, and so had Charles.

"You're so smug," Charles mumbles from where his face is buried under a pillow. He's lying on his belly, one arm flung across Erik, hand on his collarbone; Erik is lying on his back spread-eagle.

"'m not," Erik replies, rolling on his side towards Charles. Accommodating him, Charles rolls onto his side as well – though without lifting his head – and they curl up together. "'m not," Erik says again, nuzzling the side of Charles' neck.

"Is okay, gorgeous," Charles slurs, already halfway to drifting off again. Unfortunately, they don't have that kind of time – they have the morning off, but Charles is meeting some people for lunch and Erik is meeting up with the people from the film he participated in a couple of months ago, wrapping up post-location filming. He would much rather stay in bed all day, but alas, that's not an option.

Also, he has a question.

Charles sighs when Erik starts rubbing his hand up and down his back; he knows Erik isn't trying to soothe him back to sleep. "Don't wanna," he whines, curling up into a tight ball, forehead and knees pressing into Erik's chest. When that doesn't dislodge Erik's hand, he whines and throws himself onto his back, arms spread out. Erik has to hold back a chuckle at his antics; he can't help it, Charles is really cute when at the prospect of having to get up he starts flopping all over the bed like a fish out of the water.

"Charles," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone and rubbing their jaws together, making the stubble bristle. "Good morning."

With a heartfelt sigh, Charles finally opens his eyes; he's been keeping them stubbornly shut this whole time. "I hate everything."

He really does right at this moment; Erik has learned this the hard way, which is why he's not showing his amusement openly. But five minutes after getting up, Charles will be energetic and trying to talk around his toothbrush about what he's planned for the day and whatever else is going through his head at the time. He'll calm down a bit once he gets his tea. The best point to get his question in would be between the grumpy phase and the babbling. However, Erik hasn't quite managed yet to figure out when exactly that is, so he just kisses Charles' cheek again and sits up when Charles sends him a look from slanted eyes. He doesn't like to be touched a lot before he's showered and brushed his teeth.

With another sigh, Charles rolls on his belly again, staying there for a second before he heaves himself up and crawls backwards off the bed. He stumbles out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door; Erik had to get used to that at first. Charles' boundaries are a little strange; he doesn't at all have a problem with bodily functions or nudity, and he also doesn't have any problem with being touched, but he does have rules about the intent behind the touching. Erik is allowed to touch Charles affectionately and casually in any way he wants to, anywhere (including areas that, to Erik, used to be taboo for that sort of thing), and he's also allowed to touch Charles because he wants to (Erik still doesn't quite understand what exactly Charles means by that; he just gets confused when Charles tries to explain), but he isn't allowed to touch him at all with the intent to arouse. He doesn't freak out when Erik does it because he forgets and it's almost instinct, but he goes still and tells him to stop. Erik has no idea how Charles can tell the difference when Erik himself can't always, but he's learning.

Getting up, Erik walks around the bedroom, picking up their discarded clothes; by the time he's finished making the bed Charles has turned the shower on. From experience Erik knows that when he gets out he'll be bubbly, so he decides to test whether now would be a good time to ask. They have showered together before – twice – so he doesn't think Charles will have a problem with it. Still, when he gets into the bathroom he calls out and asks if Charles will mind.

It earns him a very dubious look when Charles pokes his head out. "Of course not," he says incredulously. "Why would I?"

He doesn't seem too disgruntled anymore, though not really cheerful yet either; it seems Erik is lucky.

"What _exactly_ is your meeting about?", Charles asks when Erik steps into the shower, shampoo bottle in one hand as he tilts his face up invitingly.

Erik obliges, pressing a short kiss to his lips before taking the bottle out of his hands. Motioning for Charles to turn around, Erik pours shampoo into his hand and then starts to massage it into Charles' wet hair. "It's just a wrap up after the wrap up, basically. There'll be a party in two weeks, you can come with me if you want. Charles," he then says slowly, "I have a question."

"Shoot," Charles allows, voice languid. He loves massages.

"About orgasms." Erik feels himself flush. "You said you won't have one with me. Ever?"

Charles leans back into Erik's chest. "It's not that I won't have any with you specifically," he clarifies. "It's also not really a question of "will not" as much as it's a "can not". Have orgasms with people, I mean. I just don't like being touched in that way; it bores me, to be honest. It seems pointless to me. When I do it I don't play around either, I just get to it – I have fantasies, yes, but I don't draw it out."

Erik really can't relate to that at all; he enjoys being touched immensely. He also enjoys touching, and he has difficulties dealing with the fact that he can't touch Charles that way, but he can get used to it.

"To answer your question," Charles adds after a moment, sounding a little amused at himself, "It's unlikely."

He doesn't apologize, but he doesn't need to.

Wrapping an arm around his boyfriend's waist from behind, Erik presses his cheek into Charles foamy hair.

"Okay," he says. And it is.

**Author's Note:**

> For people who don't want to go through the same thing Erik and Charles go through, here's a [helpful link](http://grasexuality.wordpress.com/2012/03/28/how-to-have-sex-with-an-asexual-person/) someone really should have referred to them.


End file.
